One-Hundred Thousand Years Ago
by Silverwinds1313
Summary: After finding strange readings on an icy planet, SG-1 is sent to explore and find out what's causing this "echo" of energy. While exploring the desolate world they are caught up in a situation that will ultimately lead to their demise. The only way for them to have more than a snowball's chance in hell to live is if someone spots them stranded on the blizzarding planet...


_ Author's Note: This story was inspired by theholycheese's story "_A Dead God and the Live Team." _What I've written is a rework of his story with a bit of my own spin on it. I would recommend reading hers first, but if you do, don't read farther than the first chapter. My hope is to follow her chapters as closely as possible until near the end of the middle where I will be having a little fun with this story. _

_ Whether you come here from the Danny Phantom fandom, the Stargate fandom, from both or even neither, my goal is that you should be able to understand this all completely. Some information may be missing in this chapter, but it will be sure to come in later chapters, so just hold on!_

_ My biggest hope of all is that I can actually muster up the inspiration to complete one full fan fiction - this one. Wish me luck!_

_ Enjoy._

* * *

For SG-1 it was just another normal day. I'm sure you know the kind; exploring a barren, sub-zero temperature terrain on an alien world. Which was by no means a metaphor.

Yes, a rather normal, boring, freeze-your-ass-off day. And one Jack O'Neill was pretty annoyed at that. There was a game on tonight at 7 – Cubs versus the Red Sox, an upset game for sure! – and he was going to miss it because he had to stick around and check out this lifeless ice-ball of a planet. Honestly, he didn't even know why they were out there. He probably should have paid more attention during them meeting in the briefing room, but once Carter got on about abnormalities on the readings from the probe and energy anomalies, he kind of tuned it out… He'd heard just enough to realize there was next to no chance of seeing any kind of life _at all_ on the planet, and after that, well… Well, he did manage to get his paper football into Daniel's glass of water without getting caught by General Hammond.

The colonel let out a self-depreciating breath. Some days he wished he was cut out to be more of an office guy, a pencil pusher, 'cause at least then he'd have normal work hours and could catch the games like every other Joe Shmoe and Johnny Noname out there. But on the other hand, Joe Shmoe didn't get bragging rights to saving the world twice a month from those snake-like mind-controlling parasitic aliens that called themselves Goa'uld.

Just thinking about the Goa'uld got Jack a bit fired up. The narcissistic body-snatching worms always seemed to be lurking at the edge of everything those at Cheyenne Mountain did like some sort of clichéd pre-confrontation day between a hero and villain. Except that they couldn't just duke out their epic final battle and get on with their lives – no, they were stuck in a stressful state of limbo. Well, really it was just stressful on the human's side. It was just luck and the Goa'uld's arrogance that kept Earth intact; the Goa'uld thought the Earthlings of little importance, knowing they had no means of space travel other than the Stargate and little to speak of in terms of powerful allies.

Jack almost scoffed at that - they had the Tok'ra on their side! Though teaming themselves with the Tok'ra had left a bitter taste in the colonel's mouth, he knew their alliance was for the best. At first (and still a bit now) he had thought the Tok'ra nothing more than glorified Goa'ulds, because, really, that's what they were. The Goa'uld and the Tok'ra were the same kind of alien, except that the Goa'uld were hell-bent on galactic domination while the Tok'ra just wanted to be freed from the Goa'uld's evil shadow.

Either way, Tok'ra or Goa'uld, they were still mind-controlling parasites. Jack had the unpleasant experience of hosting one and he never planned on letting that happen again! He supposed it could have been worse - he could have hosted a Goa'uld instead of a Tok'ra and ended up giving it all his information on the goings-on of Sheyenne Mountain, which would have had deadly consequences, but his experience did almost end up killing him. The stupid snake inside of him decided it needed to go and try to rescue it's buddy from a known Goa'uld warbase homeworld using Jack's body. Carter had tried to explain it to him as the Tok'ra having to impress itself to Jack's moral code meaning that it couldn't leave an ally behind, just as Jack would. But Jack refused to hear it - the idiotic creature almost got them both tortured to death!

With a huff he realized that that wasn't the first time he came close to death. Actually, he lost count after twenty-something. It was probably closer to 70 by now. Maybe more. He mentally shrugged; it didn't really matter considering it was going to happen again and again and again and… well, probably until it actually did end up killing him. You know… he wasn't really sure if he was even getting hazard pay for this. He should ask General Hammond about that.

He should take a vacation. Dodging energy beams and avoiding death traps is fun and all, but nothing is quite as good as casting his rod into the fish-less pond behind his cabin or grilling up a barbeque while sipping on an ice-cold Bud Lite. Right now, he should be out on lake McConohay with his fishing cap over his face, relaxing in his 10-year-old, leaky, rust-bucket of a boat catching nothing but the weeds that sit at the bottom of the water.

O'Neill looked around through his ice-caked snow goggles at the bleak, dead, futureless, desolate, coldcoldcold, _freezing_ wasteland in every endless direction finding nothing but snow. Snow, snow, snow, everywhere you turned. Looking up? Snow. Left? Ice. Right? Frozen water. Forward? Backward? Sideways? Upside down? Nothing but the white stuff. Don't get him wrong, he loves his job, but glancing listlessly at this frozen world, he was pretty damn sure it was time for a vacation. A warm one.

How long had they been on this planet anyway? It felt like hours.

"Carter!" the colonel called through the mic - the howling winds and snow flurries prevented conventional communication -, "How much longer is this gonna take? I'm getting snow where snow doesn't belong." What was she doing anyway? Gathering snow samples? Scientists did the most useless things sometimes.

"Not much longer, sir. It seems that the energy readings are gone. Either something is disrupting the signal to my equipment or whatever it was is gone now. Both explanations are highly improbable, though, because the amount of power it would take to create readings like that would almost definitely require a stationary source and to have a signal jammer to cover such an immense energy field would mean it's very advanced technology. And if that's the case, then it's useless trying to search much longer."

Though Jack couldn't see major Carter at the moment, he knew she had that gleam in her eye that meant she was either going to go into a rant or do a _ton_ of research when they got back. He sincerely hoped it was the latter.

"I dunno, Sam," a third voice broke in "Even if there was something jamming the signal, wouldn't it have to have been turned on by something? Some_one_?" Standing over Carter's shoulder to get a look at her collected data, Doctor Daniel Jackson provided his query. Though Daniel was no scientist, he worked best along side Sam because of their shared interest in alien knowledge. Jackson had lived for a year on the desert planet Abydos where he was widely accepted among the people just beyond that Stargate. While there, he gathered invaluable information on the location of other Stargates. Though that information was likely never to be retrieved by the people of Earth if not for a series of unfortunate events in which his wife was kidnapped by the Goa'uld. Daniel returned to Earth to work with SG-1, where he had begun, to search for his wife. Daniel's primary goal remained to rescue his wife until she died due to Teal'c defending himself from the Goa'uld controlling her. Yet the young archaeologist had become enthralled with the knowledge that SG-1 sought out during their journeys, so much so that he decided to remain with the team. Though Jackson's curiosity and desire for knowledge had nearly gotten him killed more than once, it had also saved the rest of SG-1 on many an occasion. Daniel's mental library of languages allows for basic communication with whatever locals they encounter - such is the case when you're fluent in 26 languages - and can lead to a friendly beginning or fix a misunderstanding.

Jackson wasn't actually part of the military like everyone else at Sheyenne Mountain - the USAF base wasn't top secret, but what went on there most certainly was. The Stargate Program was one of the most well-guarded secrets in the country - well it was up until that rat Maybourne went and spilled the beans to the Russians. The world couldn't know about the Stargate Program or what they do in Cheyenne Mountain because it would undoubtedly cause wide-spread panic. In fact, the program had almost been shut down once or twice already. They didn't need to add fuel to the fire. Only a select few non-military personnel knew of the existence of the Stargate and that was the way it needed to remain.

"Yes," the major replied, "but the question is, how did it know we were searching for it? The MALP didn't seem to trigger this response, so it must not have been the activation of the Stargate or motion caused by something coming through. Whatever caused it must know that we're here…"

Silently, a shadowy figure coalesced from the mists of the whipping ice, marching forward with purpose toward the three Earthlings grouped nearby. The being was entirely the opposite- that is to say, not from Earth. Standing at perhaps six feet tall, the now vaguely definable splotch loomed behind the two scientists like a sentinel, white shards winding themselves around it like gauze about a mummy.

Daniel, feeling a sudden change in the wind that was pressing his back, turned on instinct to see what had caused it. The doctor nearly jumped straight out of his skin when he whirled around to find that none other than Teal'c had snuck up behind him. Leave it to him to stay mute when approaching someone on an alien world.

"Teal'c!" the shorter man yelped, "you scared me."

"My apologies, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c replied sincerely and with a small tip of his torso in a bow.

Sam picked up here and filled their re-emerged friend in on the situation. "Have you heard of anything like this?"

With a frown of thought, the man answered, "Yes, this kind of technology is used often in Goa'uld fighter ships. It works much like your thermal sensors, but it is much too cold here for such equipment to function." His voice was as deep and calm as an ocean. Dealing in facts and with little time for mistakes, his words were always sure and strong.

With his first-hand experience in all things Goa'uld, Teal'c made for an invaluable source of information when it came to nearly any off-world mission. Having been once a part of that coven, Teal'c knew much about the technologies and, mainly, the offensive tactics of the humans' enemies. Although Teal'c was himself from the Goa'uld homeworld, he did not have access to the any of the information about how to construct the alien weaponry. He knew nothing of how to assemble, how to create, or even what sort of material went into such crafts; such information was forbidden, he'd informed the SGC.

"We were thinking it was probably best to head back. There's not much more we can do here." Carter continued.

Teal'c agreed with a nod of his head.

As if to reinforce this sentiment, a sudden screeching beep assaulted SG-1's ears, leaving them momentarily ringing.

"The hell was that?" O'Neill asked of no one in particular, sounding rather insulted.

"That's our queue to leave." Jackson lurched forward, trudging as quickly as was possible without breaking the top crust with his snowshoes, Sam not hesitating to follow behind.

"That was the blizzard alarm," she filled in.

Jack laughed in blatant disbelief. There was no way. "You're telling me that _this_ isn't a blizzard?"

Without having to think about it, she relayed information. "Not on this planet. The blizzards here are made of frozen nitrogen, getting down to negative 400 degrees Fahrenheit, not counting the windchill. If any organic life were to stand in the way of this storm the water inside the cells would instantly crystallize."

Jack let out a contemplative hum as he fell in step with the hustling duo, Teal'c behind him. "Sounds like it'd be pretty."

Sam glanced over her shoulder towards him, "If you call being a fleshy ice sculpture pretty, then yes."

The colonel pondered this a moment, "The chicken noodle soup around here must be pretty strong stuff to melt those kind of snowmen."

If anyone got the reference, no one said as much.

Thankfully, the Stargate wasn't that far off, about 300 hundred meters, though with visibility at zero they had to rely on the beacon that the MALP was emitting to find their way back. The MALP was the probe that was sent into the Stargate before any member of the SGC was allowed through. The Mobile Analytic Laboratory Probe, or MALP, was equipped with sensors that tested the atmospheric quality, temperature, geological activities, and had a camera among other things. The camera's main functions were to see if the coast was clear of hostiles and to check that the DHD was in working order.

Everything had checked clean when they'd sent it through. The energy readings were the only thing that had drawn them to the other-wise completely dull planet.

Generally speaking SG-1 would be sent on missions involving more dangerous situations on more inhabited planets, leaving researching to other SG teams, but with a lull in the required recon missions Carter proposed to General Hammond that they see to this planet and it's unexplainable power. Jack wasn't thrilled with the idea, obviously, but went along with it mostly to ease the boredom.

He sort of regretted that decision.

They were about half way to the gate when a second beep sounded, followed by another, a sense of urgency riding on the sound waves.

"We've gotta pick it up, guys. We only have a few minutes until the storm reaches us."

The archaeologist leading the pack replied with shortened breath, "Trying, Sam. The wind is awful."

And indeed it was. The ice that was being tossed about by the gale-force winds cut across the team's face wherever exposed, leaving the skin raw, chafed, and near bleeding. The cold in itself was enough to crack open skin and they had to be extremely careful not to lick their lips lest they be frozen with the moisture. In addition, the howling gale pressed onto them, slowing even further their race toward escape.

Taking long, quickened steps, Teal'c took the lead, breaking the wind and clearing a path through the snow for the three humans trailing behind him. Slowly but surely, they found themselves at the crest above where the Stargate was located. Here the gusting was especially strong. The Gate was located at the base of a cliff side, the locationing conveniently creating a snow drift, forcing the snow to gather a few hundred feet from the base, rather than atop the Stargate.

Trudging up the accumulated snow from the drift had been somewhat of a trek, but going down would be much faster and easier on the limbs. Steep as it was, the group found themselves sliding down on their boots - minus the snowshoes -, leaving trails of up-turned snow behind them in flurries quickly caught and whisked away by the winds. They fought for their balance, wobbling and tipping every which way, forcing each to take a turn every now and then to stop and catch their breath as well as find their grounding. It took only a minute to reach the bottom of the pit, but with the sense of impending doom in the form of a snow-storm, it felt like hours.

Rushing over to the DHD, Daniel began to pound in the chevrons for Earth, but to his great surprise and even greater dismay, the keys refused to light up and neither would they lock in on the Stargate. The Dial Home Device was a part of the Stargate, sharing a connection with the gate on it's world and allowing for control over the destination of the gate. Each DHD consisted of 39 symbols, each of those corresponding with different stellar constellations. When seven of these symbols are pressed in a particular order, a wormhole opens up between the two Stargates allowing for travelers to pass between them, delivering them to the target location near instantaneously.

The order the symbols must be pressed depends on your current location and the target location. Much like a telephone, the symbols add up to the location of the target Stargate - an area code, an exact address, and additionally, your current address. Press any one of these out of order and, like a phone, you'll get no answer.

But at this point in time, pressing the keys out of order was not Daniel Jackson's current dilemma.

"Jackson," O'Neill started concernedly, "You gonna start dialing anytime soon?" The captain didn't really feel like being on or even remotely near this planet when the blizzard decided to tear through here on it's rampage.

"I - I can't!" The panicked Egyptologist blurted.

"What do you mean you can't?" Jack attempted to shout over his pounding heart. The wind wasn't so loud down here, but he still felt the need to yell.

"The buttons are stuck, sir! Jammed with ice. We'll need to get it out somehow." Carter interjected, hovering over Jackson's shoulder, attempting in any way possible to assist him and get the first key active.

"Oh well that's alright. We'll just wait til spring, right Teal'c?"

Teal'c didn't say anything, but Jack knew he had raised his eyebrow in the way only Teal'c can.

Shortly, three frenzied squeals fled into their ear canals.

"We only have one minute left!"

In desperation, Daniel tore off his right glove, forcing his fingers beneath the stone buttons, scooping out the snow beneath holding them up. Ice shards jammed themselves snugly into his nailbed, tearing apart the delicate tissue. Any blood that may have tried to escape was quickly frozen and prevented from doing so. So focused was he on this task that he hardly noticed the blue quickly creeping up his fingers, through his veins, paling the skin and shrinking the blood vessels. As quickly as he'd begun, he was forced to stop, Sam peeled away his hands and forced the snow-crusted glove back into his ice-locked claw hand.

"Teal'c, try shooting it with your staff. That should make enough heat to melt it down!" Sam didn't care if this could damage the DHD. If it worked, they'd get out alive. If not, well… They had nothing else to lose.

Teal'c fired three successive shots from his Ma'Tok staff weapon, each shot landing on one of the symbols meant to bring them home. As Sam had hoped, the heat from the plasma weapon had, in fact, melted the compacted snow, but that was only three of the seven they needed and they were out of time.

Sam pointed out the last four symbols and told Teal'c to keep firing even as she turned to watch the rapidly approaching wall of black, which was defying all logic and sweeping towards them against the grain of the normal winds. It thundered across the plains they had traversed just minutes earlier, bringing with it desolation and the certainty of the end. Never else had she experienced such a sensation as feeling emotion _from_ an object instead of _because_ of an object. It was a brief, but overwhelming impression, succumbing only to her own terror at seeing death incarnate before her own eyes.

She was certain that if hell had frozen over, it would look just like this.

Sam was not the only one to feel the boil of rage swelling within the miasma of solidified hydrogen. Jack was frozen with not only the negative temperatures, but with the crushing weight of emotion the cloud seemed to bear. He would later tell himself the cold had been effecting him, but his knees nearly gave out beneath him while trying to support - even comprehend!- the burden of emotion propelling the slashing white particles in their direction. The occurrence was fleeting, there and then not, like a sort of pareidolia caught in the corner of the eye in passing, easily brushed off as something else, or forgotten in its entirety.

Knowing there was no escaping fate this time, Jack beckoned Teal'c over from his firing position and gathered his loyal crew, clasping his hands onto Sam's and Teal'c's shoulders, he looked each of them in the eye, saying nothing. Nothing needed to be said, they all knew what the unspoken words were. They'd spent years in each other's deep trust, saving each others lives and depending on the others to save each of their lives in turn - they knew this group as if each person was an extension of themselves.

Words were obsolete.

Time was irrelevant.

And so were they.

* * *

The horrid crashing sound like a fifty train pile-up forced their instincts to bring them to the ground, backs to the oncoming winds and hands clasped to their ears as if they were born that way. And that was how the storm passed over them, crouched in an attempt to save themselves from the inevitable. And that was how it continued to pass them.

A horrid _**WHOOM**_**-**_**KERCHAAAAAAHHHHH! **_bombarded their eardrums, popping the sensitive hearing organs fifty ways from Friday. At the sudden pressure change, their balance was compromised and their worlds sent spinning, spinning even when their eyes were sewn shut. In Carter's Airforce training she'd adapted long ago to rapid changes in pressure, allowing her to recover first, though still slowly.

Sam came to, eyes still twitching about, trying to find purchase on something that wasn't trying to repeatedly throw itself out of her line of vision.

The only thing she could notice at first was how bright it was now. How very bright.

The light was nearly blinding, jumping at her eyes from every direction.

Carter dragged herself into a sitting position, glancing toward her comrades who were slowly doing the same. Teal'c also seemed to be recovering quickly, as per usual. She made no attempt to look around; It was all she could do to hold her food down, which, she had found, seemed to have come alive and started crawling back up her esophagus.

"CARTER!" The colonel yelled extremely loudly, despite their headsets still aiding their communication, "JACKSON, TEAL'C!"

They returned his call with one of their own, each muttering something about their current condition. That being: they were alive. Miraculously. Astonishingly. Unbelievably.

Daring to crack their eyes open once more, the recognition that the world was now green was not actually all that surprising. More distracting than that was the simple fact that they were still flesh and blood and not freshly formed ice-sculptures.

The source of the green rays was quickly apparent: above and around them, stretching from the cliff wall to the slope of the snow drift was an irradiant dome. The crashing that had kicked down their eardrums like an angry rockstar was soon discovered to have come from the same source. The demented wailing from the blizzard echoed off the curved walls, taunting them with the sight of icy death, held at bay only by a semi-transparent layer of green energy, the resistance it caused against the winds creating the ear-splitting tumult.

The blizzard outside tore apart the landscape, dragging along the salted ground, throwing the frozen particles around like heart-seeking projectiles. A single flake flying at unearthly speeds struck the green half-globe, making a sharp _thik_, and this multiplied by several million was what the four inside were forced to acclimate themselves to.

Balance not yet completely regained, they stood up as quickly as possible, fighting instincts screaming to get some semblance of an idea about the situation. Grasping onto the DHD, Sam pulled herself up, helping Teal'c up by the arm when she had found her own footing. She took quick inventory on the area and found nothing but the nearby Stargate and, disappointingly, more snow.

Scraping himself off the cold ground, the colonel made sure to voice his exact opinion on this matter: "Who the hell designs a 5-minute alarm for deadly blizzards?"

Jack was mildly surprised, and a smidge irritated, that he got no response from anyone. His trio of compatriots were all up and standing, braced against the low pedestal of the DHD, and staring outward to the far side of the radiant bubble holding the storm at bay. What, he wondered, were they looking at?

Getting to his feet, he steadied himself on the arms of Sam and Daniel who both hardly spared him a glance. Frowning at this, he knew he had to find the source of their distress quickly so as to asses the situation for himself, seeing as that his comrades had no intention of filling him in. Taking a deep breath to hold down his lunch from the still-twirling world, he focused as best he could on the direction of their astonished gazes.

He soon discovered that his eyebrows had found placement in his hairline, but then soon decided that, no, that was not where they belonged, so instead he furrowed them down into a scowl. The vision before the quad was very perturbing. The hairs on the back of their necks rose and chills ran down their spines from something that was definitely not the cold. Hearts thumped wildly as they watched mesmerized at something that should only belong in scary stories or horror movies.

Standing outside the protective barrier, a smallish figure stood. From the distance it was difficult to tell exactly what it was, but it was, without a doubt, humanoid. A cloak and hood danced in the hellish winds whipping past this apparently unaffected being. It seemed as if the wind provided no strain against its pose despite the air moving at speeds that were completely unachievable on Earth - the only real effects of the winds were those of the fluttering rags of cloths that adorned this creature, and even those didn't seem to be reacting as they should.

In a slow, deliberate movement that was obviously meant to keep the humans from being taken off guard (an effect that was not achieved), the cloaked figure stepped into and then through the seemingly solid green shield. The other-worldly being passed through the barrier like an oar through water. The glaring emerald opened and sealed itself behind as if the creature had momentarily become a part of the wall itself.

Doing as their instincts and training told them, they armed themselves against the newcomer. They were scantily prepared for action, having only brought side-arms or nothing at all in Daniel's case. Teal'c was the only one who had brought any sort of battle-ready weapon with him.

Jack stepped forward, tapping Jackson on the shoulder in a silent request to trade places. Not needing any sort of verbal queue, Daniel swapped with the colonel, instead taking residence adjacently between their leader and Teal'c.

An impregnable moment passed before anything happened. Jack was a bit weary of the situation, as he well should be, and didn't know how to best broach the silence. He had no idea who or what this thing was or what it was capable of. He was usually a little better grounded, and armed, when approaching the unknown, and even usually the unknown had some sort of background in something he _did_ know. But this did not. This was completely uncharted territory.

He guessed he should test the waters.

"Who are you?" It wasn't as much a question as it was a demand. Hopefully it understood English.

The person before them was still a ways off, but now that the green light wasn't obscuring the vision between them it was much easier to tell that this being was either young or a woman by Earthly standards. Short and slight, the figure stood at about 5"4'. Aside from the cloak, it appeared that this apparition was bear footed and had some wear-torn shorts and t-shirt on beneath. The cloak itself was clasped together with a broach which appeared to be some sort of symbol. Color was hard to determine beneath the harsh neon that provided their only light, but it's attire seemed to consist entirely of a black and white color scheme.

Brashly, this being moved forward despite the weapons pointed in it's direction.

Jack shouted a warning, "Don't take another step!" shaking his pistol lightly to get the point across.

It stopped and, though the hood hid it's eyes and, unnaturally it seemed, shadowed it's entire face, all could tell it looked at Jack.

O'Neill repeated his first question.

At first it seemed the creature would not talk until a frowning voice came from under the sheltering cloak. "I'd like to get closer to speak, so we don't have to shout."

The voice rang out crystal clear within the semi-orb they were trapped in, seemingly speaking from every where at once. The sensation was odd, and almost as if it had come from inside his head. Peripherally he looked to his squad to see their reaction was just as curious and confused as his. Jack was startled but undeterred. "Yeah, well I like to know who I'm speaking to before I get close to them," he announced, though not rudely.

Daniel gave Jack a sidelong look from beneath his goggles. "I don't think it's out to hurt us, Jack."

O'Neill considered this. Usually when Jackson made an assumption about something he was either right on or dead wrong. In this instance he had no matter of precedence to base a decision towards approaching this unknown with anything but a solid defense. Caution seemed to be the best course of action as it always did when dealing with the unknowns. If Daniel was right this would play out fine with a bit of verbiage between the two parties, but if he was wrong it would put them in a mighty predicament.

Jack didn't know how this what-ever-it-was managed to stand outside in the blizzard since the major had made it very clear nothing could possibly be alive out there, or even how it walked through the verdant dome they were beneath like air. His best guess was that it was a projection of some sort, a hologram. But if it was, why would it stop at the threat of weaponry?

With a deepened scowl, Jack made a decision. He lowered his weapon to the defense, taking away direct aim at his target though not disarming himself. He nodded toward Sam and Teal'c to do the same. He trusted the young archaeologist's intuition the same he would trust Carter to find an escape route and Teal'c to watch his 6. Of course there was room for error, but he felt comfortable with these choices and with his trust in them.

Taking this as his queue to approach, the bare-footed being stepped forward, pushing aside the snow with it's toes rather than stepping into it. It left no footprints. The cape was also long enough to brush the ground and yet left no trace. Nothing was left to be seen but the ghostly visage of the oncoming creature.

Stopping it's approach at a comfortable distance a few meters away, details were a bit more readily available, though Jack had been right when he had taken inventory on the person's choice of attire. Despite the temperatures that would have sunk mercury through the bottom of a thermometer, it wore not much more than a pair of weather-worn jean shorts, a ragged white cotton shirt, and the cloak that was still obscuring the other's features. The broach that clipped the sides of the cape snugly together was, in fact, a symbol as he had guessed. It looked to him to be an incomplete letter D, the gap at the bottom creating an opening for the base of the letter P which was cut out from the center.

Though he couldn't see it's face or arms from the cloak, Jack could tell the creature was as pale as death. The toes showed signs of such a case as well, appearing slightly translucent as long-cooled flesh often does. Ashen legs were formed of lanky muscle, toned from walking and hard labor and wrapped with thinned, undernourished skin.

Even with only a few steps separating them, it was hard to tell it's gender, assuming it had one. The airy voice that had found the four off-worlders had not given any inclination to the matter. It was likely they wouldn't know for sure unless the face of this phantom was revealed.

Silence overtook the crowd, each party observing the other, not sure who should make the first move. Jack, as always, decided to break the almost awkward silence.

"Nice weather."

The hooded alien's shoulders twitched. It could have been a flinch, a laugh, or even a shrug.

"Seen better," the blackness beneath the hood replied in the same tone. Now more seriously it turned it's shaded gaze on each member of the quad, letting it rest on Teal'c. "Jaffa." The word was laced with many emotions. Not quite accusatory, almost a question, and nearly a hostile greeting.

Teal'c didn't even flinch.

Jumping in before anything could escalate, Jackson made to inform the being that Teal'c was no longer affiliated with the Goa'uld. Although Teal'c had once been the First Prime - the right hand - of Apophis, the man had broken away from the parasite infested man that he had once believed was a god. The Goa'uld that had taken over the body of an ancient Egyptian man had called himself a god, created a powerful army of Jaffa ,and ruled this section of the galaxy for several thousands of years. The Jaffa were men and women that were "honored" with carrying the symbiotic, undeveloped version of a Goa'uld within a pouch created in their abdomen, and Teal'c was the first among them to free himself from the tyrant's rule.

Teal'c had betrayed his ruler in favor of Jack O'Neill and his crew. SG-1 had been caught while exploring a foreign world - Chulak - before the SGC had gotten a good grip on the going-ons of the galaxy's system and were thrown into a Goa'uld holding cell to be slain along with nearly one-hundred other captives. Moments before the room was about to become a blood bath, Jack made a plea to Teal'c - to the one of the most powerful Jaffa in the galaxy. The colonel claimed he could save all of the people that were about to be slaughtered, Teal'c had heard this same line many times before. The blathering of men hoping to save their own hides, but this time… this time, Teal'c believed that this off-worlder would be able to do what the others could not.

Together they broke through the stone walls with staff weapons and charged for the Stargate. Refugees fled with them, seeking the safety that these aliens offered. Upon arriving at Earth, Teal'c was swept away by security and locked up for questioning. It didn't take long for Jack to convince General Hammond of Teal'c's authenticity. Jack nearly foamed at the mouth fighting in favor of a man he hardly knew because what he did know was that this alien had betrayed the enemy in light of morals and trust in calculated chance. In O'Neill's mind, that was all that was needed to be considered an ally.

Jackson explained this to the black and white adorned being before them, though not in so many words.

"I see." Was the only reply. Nodding toward the DHD that separated them, it continued. "Where were you going?"

Gaping slightly that the person seemed to know what the DHD was and it's purpose, Daniel's only response was to tap on the symbol that represented their homeworld. In the linguist's experience it did no good to tell an extraterrestrial they were going to Earth, but to show them the symbol. The Stargate's symbol represented the same place in all languages, no matter the name they chose to call it.

Sparing a glance toward Jack and his weapon, the short being took a slow step forward to see which chevron was being indicated. At a slight nod, it receded to it's previous standpoint and asked, "What do you call it?"

Daniel replied simply, yet curiously: "Earth."

All at once the world seemed to still. For a heartbeat even the blizzard was silent. It seemed as if time itself stood still for one excruciating moment, and so much like the storm had sent a feeling of rage throughout SG-1, this chest-crushing second washed through them with a thousand lifetimes worth of yearning. The brief flicker of this emotion that felt so much like heart-break left them gasping and bewildered.

In one swift movement, the hood was thrown off, revealing a startling image that was hidden beneath. A boy, no older than 14 stood on shaky knees. Hair whiter than snow and a soft, though almost angular face of a boy about to become a young man framed vibrant viridian irises. Tears pooled there, gleaming with something akin to hope.

"Earth?" He whispered breathlessly.

The boy struck his knees like a lost man seeking his final forgiveness from god, tears jarring themselves from his eyes as he did so, sending them rolling down his pale cheeks.

"Please. Please tell me you said _Earth!_"

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Any and all comments will be greatly appreciated before being fed to my starving muse. _

_Remember to check out theholycheese's story "_A Dead God and the Live Team" _as without that story, this one would never have come to exist. _


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